


Not So Grimm: A Cracky Fairy Tale

by xanzpet (gleefulmusings)



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-06
Updated: 2012-03-04
Packaged: 2017-10-30 16:44:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/333860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gleefulmusings/pseuds/xanzpet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander, prince of Cordeliana, seeks to reclaim his throne from the evil William of Cloroxia. Assisted by the White Witch, a pair of helpful dwarves, and a particularly surly magical mirror, he will fight for his lands and a Prince Charming of his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part the First

Once upon a time, there was an inordinately beautiful pastoral kingdom known as Cordeliana, so named for a wise and ancient Queen who, with the power of her stunning beauty, keen wit, and magnificent breasts, consistently defended her home against hordes of scurrilous invaders, and was still worshiped by adoring acolytes a millennium later.

Full of lush, verdant fields and boasting exquisite and unique types of flora and fauna, Cordeliana was the envy of all of the surrounding principalities, and while they were too fearful to launch attacks on the kingdom due to its people's fierce devotion to the royal heir, the rulers of these small nations nevertheless sought and conspired to incorporate Cordeliana into their own holdings.

The most persistent of these interlopers was Liam Angelus, King of the Realm of Aurelius. While his land was exceedingly wealthy and prosperous, King Liam was dissatisfied and longed to claim Cordeliana as his own. For over a decade, he schemed and plotted against Queen Darla, his former lover and ruler of the kingdom he so desperately desired.

All of his entreaties and nefarious plans were for naught, however, as the Queen, wary of his professions of renewed love – as well as his exceedingly large forehead – instead consolidated her power and thwarted him at every turn. After Queen Darla took a husband, Prince Lindsey of Attorneyata, and conceived an heir, Prince Alexander, it appeared as if nothing could unseat the Queen from her throne.

King Liam, however, connived with a neighboring nobleman and distant relative, the vainglorious William of Cloroxia, and the two hatched a vile coup and had King Consort Lindsey assassinated. This plot, too, failed, for as Queen Darla fell into deep mourning, her people united around her and the kingdom of Cordeliana emerged stronger than ever. Frustrated, King Liam and Duke William adjusted their vision.

After the appropriate amount of time had passed, Duke William began slyly courting Queen Darla, who was vulnerable to the Duke's beautiful cheekbones, piercing blue eyes, and abs of steel. Prince Alexander, a mere lad at the time, had, in the wake of his father's murder, been sent for his own protection to the far-off land of Sunnydale, ruled by the most good and gracious Queen Tara, cousin to Darla.

Here the young prince flourished and was much beloved by both nobles and peasants alike. He developed deep friendships with the Princesses Buffy and Faith, daughters of Queen Tara and the White Witch, Willow. Alexander also forged a bond with the Queen's clever and cunning Fool, a man known simply as Giles. The heir of Cordeliana, while though much aggrieved by his father's untimely demise and dreadfully missing his mother, nevertheless excelled in his studies and grew into a young man of considerable beauty and kindness.

He was renowned by all the denizens of Sunnydale for his warm eyes, the color of darkest chocolate, which always seemed to dance with laughter and merriment, and his thighs, so powerful they were believed able to choke chimeras. He had a number of suitors, but shyly and gently rejected their advances, content to be amongst his friends and hopeful that he would one day be reunited with his dear mother, though he knew that he would soon have to marry and beget an heir to secure his royal prerogative.

During this time, Duke William, through a series of dark spells, manipulated Queen Darla into taking him as her husband. He was abetted in this shameful endeavor by King Liam and a vengeful witch, Amy of Madison. After trying unsuccessfully for a number of years to sire a new heir upon the Queen, William became resigned to the fact that it was not to be. Liam suggested that disposing of the Queen would leave young Alexander in need of a guardian and the kingdom vulnerable to annexation. Anxious to be free of his albatross, William dispensed of Darla through a vicious curse which rendered her allergic to sunlight. Under the guise of protection, William had the Queen locked away in the dungeon, where she withered and at last perished from a chill which none of the royal physicians could dispel.

King Liam had played his hand with extreme caution, ensuring that the assignation was performed with neither financial nor practical remuneration from himself and guaranteeing that any lingering evidence would be traceable to Duke William alone; political assassination was considered, at times, a necessary evil, but regicide was high treason. King Liam knew that were he found even remotely circumspect, not even his crown could save him; his own people would call for his execution. With Darla gone and her consort long dead, the only thorns remaining in his side were the boy, Alexander, and Duke William. However, the King of Aurelius had contingencies in mind to deal with them, as well. Soon, Cordeliana would be his alone to rule.

At once, William declared himself Prince Regent of Cordeliana and Lord Protector of Alexander. The people, bereft at the loss of their Queen, did little to stand in his way, save mumble a few protests. Most believed the evil Duke responsible for the death of Darla, and some of the older citizens made the connection between his arrival and the death of Prince Lindsey, though lack of empirical evidence wisely convinced them to hold their tongue. Those few dissenters who dared to denounce the Duke openly were quickly rounded up and executed for treason against the crown.

Lord William, as he now insisted he be addressed, was incredibly arrogant and awash with his new-found power. He enacted a series of unfavorable decrees which allowed King Liam to commandeer several aspects of the kingdom, sending the economy and the environment into a tailspin. The people of Cordeliana, angered by these developments, rallied the castle and demanded the return of Prince Alexander, insisting that he be installed on the throne. Though Alexander was not yet of age to rule, they believed that the child of their Queen and her Consort would right all wrongs done to their nation. Parliament was abuzz with plans to abolish the law of majority and invest the Prince, regardless of his youth.

King Liam sensed the potential danger of the situation and forced Lord William to comply, though the latter was uninterested in little more than his gold and his beloved magical mirror. Before recalling Alexander to the kingdom, Lord William pranced and preened before the reflecting glass.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall," he cooed, "who is the fairest of them all?"

The Lady of the Mirror, Anyanka, who was disdainful of William's boastful pride, materialized and sneered. _"Lord William, you are hot, 'tis true, but there is one even hotter than you!"_

William scowled as his face darkened with rage. "Outrageous! No one is more desirable than I! Look at my face, my bearing, my tight and compact body! I demand that you show me this supposedly hotter individual!"

An image presented itself in the mirror. The sweet, lovely face of a youth of just sixteen appeared, his dusky skin glowing with health and vigor. Sensuous, full lips curved upward and then opened into a disarming, lopsided grin. Hair of burnt ebony fell in waves to his collar, and the most delicious eyes, glittering like the darkest of topazes, crinkled in happiness.

"Oh!" William cried, clutching his heart as his cock twitched uncomfortably in his snug codpiece. His feelings of anger were immediately subsumed by an overwhelming lust to possess this boy and make him his own. "Who is this gorgeous creature?"

The image was replaced by a smirking Anyanka. _"Ah, Lord Protector, desist while you can, for you will never know the love of this man. He is Prince Alexander, soon to be King, the son of your Queen and he who first wore her ring. He will return to this kingdom and claim his throne; you will be banished, your future unknown."_

Lord William smiled predatorily. So, this was young Alexander, the child he had convinced Darla to send away years ago. Whoever would have imagined that the boy would grow into such a captivating beauty? The Mirror's warning went unheeded as William's mind raced with schemes of how to bind the boy to him, affirming his own power and claiming the youth as his concubine.

He closed his eyes and purred in contentment as he imagined invading the boy's delicious body and making him a slave to his cock. He pictured those luscious lips wrapped around his quivering prick, eyes huge and guileless and begging for more, shameless in his desire for his Lord Protector. William dreamed of leaning Alexander's lithe frame over the very throne formerly occupied by the boy's dead mother and thrusting into that virgin entrance, making the young prince scream in both ecstasy and torment. So tender, so sweet.

"He will be mine," he vowed, ignoring the raucous laughter of Anyanka.

He immediately summoned King Liam, who put in an appearance but was annoyed by the presumptuousness of the Lord Protector. As William explained his plan to have the young prince recalled to Cordeliana, Liam carefully kept his face blank as his mind whirled with glee; with William so beguiled by Alexander, he could make short work of them both and claim the crown for himself, thus doubling the size of his kingdom and eliminating all threats to his power.

He encouraged William's folly, and suggested a messenger be sent to Queen Tara of Sunnydale, advising her of Darla's passing, which would necessitate the return of Alexander to be groomed to ascend the throne. Liam himself did not wish his name to be in any way associated with the machination for, while he was hungry for power, he was no fool; he was well aware of the talents of Queen Tara and her White Witch and did not wish to cross them. Further, he had designs on Princess Buffy, believing that were he to woo her successfully, he might forge an alliance with Sunnydale which would forestall Queen Tara's rage at his usurpation of her cousin's throne.

Excited, William deployed an envoy to Sunnydale and set about ordering the servants to ready the royal suite for Prince Alexander's return. The staff chattered animatedly about the son of their Queen coming home to the fold, and their whispers soon spilled out of the castle and into the environs. In a matter of hours, the entire kingdom was bursting with enthusiasm and undertaking preparations for a festival to welcome home their young prince.

* * * * *

Queen Tara read the scroll, her eyes widening with each word even as they seemed to cloud over.

"Sir Wesley," she said quietly, "please ask Prince Alexander to meet me in the library. If he be with my daughters, they are encouraged to attend him."

"Yes, Your Majesty," was the curt response, as the scholarly young man rushed from the room.

Moments later, Alexander and the Princesses Buffy and Faith entered the library with trepidation. It wasn't often they received such a summons from the Queen, usually only when there were serious matters which required their attention or, more rarely, occasions she had taken them to task for some silliness on their part, such as when Princess Faith tried to wrestle a crocodile for the amusement of her companions. The fact that she had triumphed over her opponent proved incidental to her mothers, however.

Queen Tara and Willow arrived quickly, and encouraged the three young people to sit and inquired as to whether they might like tea. After the formalities were dispensed and the offer of refreshment politely refused, the Queen came to stand before Alexander.

"Dear boy, cousin, it pains me greatly to inform you that your beloved mother, Queen Darla, has passed," she gently stated.

The Princesses gasped with shock and grief, but Alexander kept his silence and was carefully observed by the White Witch, with whom he had always had an almost filial relationship.

Thoughts swirled about the head of the young prince. He had not seen his mother for many years, having been sent from Cordeliana for asylum from those who had slain his father. He had not been permitted to attend his mother's remarriage to Duke William, not that he would have accepted had an invitation been extended. He wasn't quite sure why, but he had always fostered an antipathy for the man, deeming him little more than a social-climbing parasite. He barely remembered his father and already his remembrances of his mother were starting to dim. That he would be afforded no opportunity to see her again was a violation.

"Was her death a natural one?" was all he could fathom to ask.

Queen Tara's eyes widened. "Why of course it was, young prince! Your mother had developed a severe allergy to the sun, requiring her to be sequestered in the dungeons for her own safety. Unfortunately, the dank caused her frail form to succumb to a lingering chill."

The mouth of the White Witch set in a grim line. She thought the boy's question astute, and she too had her doubts as to the demise of Darla. Her wife's explanation did nothing to quell her suspicions; indeed, it only stoked their flame. Allergy to the sun? Not unheard of, but such an affliction did not suddenly present itself at such a point in life. She believed magic to be the culprit.

One look at her youngest daughter, and Willow ascertained that Princess Faith was also speculative. While she dearly loved her wife and eldest child, the Queen and Princess Buffy were often unwilling to consider the darker sides of people.

"Am I to return at last to my kingdom?" Alexander whispered.

"You are," confirmed the Queen. "You must begin preparations to wear the crown which is rightfully yours."

The young princesses wailed loudly as they realized they were soon to be parted forcibly from their dearest companion.

"And my advisor?"

"Why your stepfather, of course!" Queen Tara laughed. "Duke William has named himself Lord Protector until you are of age to reign."

Alexander inwardly shuddered but managed to suppress any apparent sign that this news distressed him. He did not want to be at the mercy of such a dastardly villain! And the audacity of that man to declare himself anything!

At once, the White Witch rose to her feet and dismissed her daughters, while asking the Queen to allow her to speak with Alexander in private. Confused, Queen Tara nevertheless capitulated and escorted her still-sobbing progeny from the room. Willow came to sit next to Alexander.

"I share your concerns," she began. "I do not believe your mother's death was mere happenstance."

"That man is evil," Alexander hissed, his rancor palpable.

"Aye, that he is," the Witch agreed. "He has undoubtedly recalled you to appease the people and will seek to rule the realm through you."

"I will not allow it!" the boy bellowed, slamming his fist into the arm of the chair.

"You have not much choice," Willow gently reminded him. "You are not yet of age to rule and he is your closest kin, though not of your blood. While my Queen is much admired by your people, they would never consent to allow her to rule until you reached majority; they would see it as a conflict of her interests."

"Praise Cordelia, what am I to do?" asked the now desperate youth, wringing his hands. "I cannot condemn my people to be subject to that murdering fiend! And King Liam! You have heard the rumors as well as I that he is still trying to conquer my lands. Further, my stepfather will surely try to force me into a union with a bride of his choosing, undoubtedly that horse-faced harpy Eve, Countess of Wolframhart."

The White Witch silently debated the best course of action, for she believed the young prince correct in his summation. Were the Duke allowed to reign for the next two years, the kingdom of Cordeliana would fall into the hands of Aurelius or go bankrupt, due to the Duke's propensity for leather pants and expensive footwear.

"If you would consent," she cautiously stated, "I could place a spell upon you which would prevent the Duke or his faction from any attempt to control your mind."

Prince Alexander nodded enthusiastically, for he would not put it past his stepfather to endeavor in such a heinous scheme, and he knew his cousin's power to be second to none.

"This is not a long-term solution, however," the Witch warned. "I think it best were you to appoint an independent paladin above corruption by the Duke. William will not dare challenge your authority to do so, and you would have the support of the Queen's Council."

"Suggestions?" he queried.

She thought for a moment. "I would recommend either Sir Wesley or the Lady Joyce. Both are remarkably learned and sound of mind and judgment."

"I think Lady Joyce," Alexander said after contemplating the matter. "She is a direct descendant of the Great Cordelia herself and is a distant cousin of my mother. She is above reproach and will tolerate no nonsense."

"A wise decision," Willow smiled. "I will send for her immediately, although you will arrive at Cordeliana before she."

The prince nodded. "But what shall I do should my stepfather press me to marry?"

"Have you given the matter any consideration?"

The young man flushed. "I have been corresponding with Charles de Gunn, Earl of the Land of Angels, as well as Princess Winifred of Illyria. While I greatly enjoy their wit and demeanor and either would make a good match, I feel not for them as one should for a spouse."

"You are young yet," the White Witch smiled, patting his hand. "It should be unnecessary for you to enter into such a commitment at this point in your life. I will draft a missive to your stepfather, advising him that the Queen and I have consented for you to court the Princess Faith. She is of royal stock and is more than a suitable match. No one would dare question it. It will buy you some time."

He nodded with relief, and Willow pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

"Cousin," the boy said slowly, "are you aware of the rumors that King Liam wishes to wed the Princess Buffy?"

"I am," the witch replied in a low voice.

"If we can dispose of him," Alexander casually began, "I believe it is in all of our interests to do so, either by forcible abdication or execution for treason against both of our kingdoms."

Willow regarded him with keen interest, part of her shocked that the young man was calmly suggesting the regicide of a sovereign king, but the greater part of her was rather thrilled.

"You have been rather underestimated, Prince Alexander," she smirked.

"The Princess is my best friend," he whispered, "but she is at times too naive for her own good. She has not the guile of you nor her sister, and while I have no doubt that she will be as glorious a ruler as Queen Tara, I nonetheless worry."

"As do I," confided the mother of the girl in question. "Prepare your things," she advised, "for you must journey home by nightfall. I will have the scroll sent on ahead of you, and Lady Joyce will be deployed as soon as she is apprised of the situation."

"Thank you, cousin," the boy quietly said. "Were it not for you, I fear that I should soon join my dear parents in the royal mausoleum."

"Neither Queen Tara nor I would ever allow such profanity," she assured him. "We begged and pleaded with your mother to divorce and exile William of Cloroxia, but she refused; I believe he may have enacted a spell upon her person." She ran her fingers through his hair. "You are beloved of both your family and your people, sweet prince. While the Duke may currently hold unchecked influence, that will not be the case much longer." She paused and took his hand. "Take these next few hours to mourn for your mother, and then take satisfaction that you will soon avenge her murder."

* * * * *

Meanwhile, King Liam was more closely considering the return of Prince Alexander. He deemed the Lord Protector foolish in his desire for the boy, and was wary that the young prince could manipulate it for his own ends. If William could be swayed by the lad, he might forget his allegiance to Liam and then Cordeliana would be lost to him.

A more intriguing option was to do away with the prince altogether, leaving the kingdom ripe for a coup before the lands could pass to Queen Tara. Alexander's death so closely following that of his mother would completely devastate their people, and they would most likely be unable to muster an effective resistance. All he had to do was make sure it could never be traced to him. Smiling, King Liam summoned his witch.

* * * * *

William, the Lord Protector, was angrily pacing his chambers, the freshly-delivered communiqué crushed in his hand.

"How dare that insolent whelp!" he raged. "He knows full well that he must secure permission to court a potential spouse! And appointing that...that _woman_ to serve as his counsel!"

Of course, he knew that Alexander, as the Regnant Prince, would neither suffer nor receive any opposition for these decrees, as he was free to appoint advisers as he saw fit, and no one would dare challenge his courting of the Princess Faith.

William frowned. He had heard rumors of the Lady Joyce. She was supposedly fearsome and intractable; with her watching his every step, he knew he stood only a slim chance of acquiring the delectable boy.

Even worse, rumor held that the Lady Joyce had a penchant for disposing of her enemies with a strange blend of mysterious cocoa! This was truly distressing, as there was nothing more he loved than a steaming cup of cocoa, unless it was unwarranted bloodshed of the innocent or the perverse defilement of a nubile youth. He had cocoa frequently throughout the day. Whatever was he to do?

"Preparations must be made."

* * * * *

The eyes of Amy of Madison grew dark with vindictive pleasure as King Liam delivered his instructions. She could not be bothered with feeling one way or the other about Prince Alexander, but the opportunity to exact vengeance upon the White Witch, who was undoubtedly protecting him, was heady indeed. Still, she knew she would pay dearly for any untoward action.

"I do not care what fate he suffers," Liam hissed, "so long as the young prince is unable to claim his throne. Do not inform me of what you will do so that if questioned I can deny any knowledge. Just ensure that he is removed and that I am not held responsible. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly, my liege," Amy murmured, offering a deep curtsey.

The king sniffed and took his leave.

"Bastard," she whispered.

Oh, how she loathed him! If only she had not challenged the White Witch, she would not be indentured to the maniacal pillock. She should have waited until she was advanced enough in her powers before daring to face off with Willow. Instead, the White Witch had stripped her of almost all of her power, leaving her little more than a husk, a fate truly worse than death. The late Queen Darla had been kind enough to offer sanctuary, but Amy had refused, preferring the allure of renewed magic which King Liam had extended.

"I have been such a fool."

She tugged ineffectually at the collar around her neck which bound her to Liam.

She would not kill Alexander for several reasons, not the least of which was that should Willow ever discover her treachery, Amy knew she stood no chance of survival. Too, the boy's mother had done her best to rehabilitate her, and Amy had wrongfully believed her inferior and weak-minded.

Were she to abide by Liam's decree and the people of Cordeliana ever to learn that she had been party to the demise of their prince, they would call for her head, and no doubt Liam would offer her up as a sacrificial lamb, proclaiming she had acted alone and not at his command. She had stood by and done nothing as King Liam and Duke William had Prince Lindsey assassinated, and she refused to condemn the blameless boy to the same fate of his equally blameless father.

After all, though she might have been dark, she was not evil. Still, the promise of hurting Willow even a little appealed to her, but she would need to plan carefully. According to Liam, young Alexander should be in transit to his kingdom.

"Well," she concluded, "a little storm will knock him off his course."

Pleased with her decision, Amy of Madison began calling the elements to her.


	2. Part the Second

Alexander sat atop his mighty steed and sighed wistfully, already longing for the company of the Princesses Buffy and Faith, who had sent him off with tearful farewells and promises of daily letters. Queen Tara was no less emotional, vowing that she would come to his aid whenever he required.

He had dispatched messages to the Princess Winifred and Earl Charles, advising them of the latest developments and that his correspondence would be halted for a brief while as he made the transition to returning to his kingdom.

The White Witch had performed the spell which would prevent his stepfather from performing magics on him, before again kissing his forehead, her soft lips leaving a faint silver sheen, signifying that he was under her protection.

He departed the kingdom of Sunnydale, beseeching the Great Cordelia to be with him on this journey as the citizens of the beautiful kingdom turned out in droves to lament his loss and wish him Godspeed. He gave alms to the underprivileged which, in a kingdom ruled by the good Queen Tara, were few and far between, and began his journey down the Road of Orange Brick toward Cordeliana.

When he had reach the halfway mark, Alexander made a small detour toward a stream so that his horse, Swift Wind, might refresh himself while his master indulged in his modest lunch of bread and wine.

"Here we go, Swifty," he cooed, sliding out of his saddle and leading his horse to the stream.

The beast enthusiastically began lapping at the crisp, cool water while the young prince retreated under a shady elm and opened his rucksack, withdrawing his repast. He paid little heed as the sky began to darken, as he was once again lost in the memory of his beloved mother and his hatred of his stepfather.

The boy was neither ready to ascend his throne nor bury his mother. He had known almost from birth that his life was not to be his own and had accepted that quite easily; he loved his people and his land and wished to make them proud. However, his years in Sunnydale had spoiled him.

How was he to get along at a home which no longer felt like his? With whom was he to spend his days? He had no friends in Cordeliana, merely subjects who saw in him an echo of his parents. He would have his accursed stepfather and the man's cronies vying for control and undermining his every step. Still, he knew he had to try.

A flash of lightening rent the sky, startling both the horse and his master, who was suddenly very aware that he was sitting under a tree. Tossing the remnants of his meal in his pack, Alexander raced toward his steed, but deemed it too dangerous to mount up. He took the bridle and rushed toward an open field, preferring to be soaked rather than electrified.

"Hurry Swifty," Alexander urged. "We still have quite a journey. Perhaps we can find a stable on the way to pass the rest of the storm."

Swift Wind neighed and followed his prince.

 

* * *

 

Amy of Madison peered into her scrying pool and watched as Prince Alexander crossed a wide field, his stallion at his side.

"Very wise," she murmured, as she noted that he was avoiding the woods and the river banks, which were beginning to swell, "but you cannot last much longer."

The border between Queen Tara's realm and Cordeliana was a dense, ancient forest within which lied many unknown dangers.

"I cannot allow him to fall prey to the creatures of that land," the witch sighed, "but neither can I allow him to reach his kingdom."

Her eyes darkened with menacing glee as she spied him hesitate before the row of trees with which he was now confronted, before he finally made up his mind to enter the fray.

Lightening shot out of the witch's finger and into the pool.

 

* * *

 

Prince Alexander startled when he heard the crackle of electricity above him. Swift Wind screamed and reared up. His master was helpless but to stare as a giant limb of a great oak was knocked lose and began plummeting toward the earth. At just the last moment, Alexander seemed to realize what might happen, and tried to dive out of the way, but the branch struck his head and rendered him unconscious.

His steed, nervous and fearful, turned and began rushing back to Sunnydale, in search of the White Witch.

 

* * *

 

The darkness in the eyes of Amy of Madison began to ebb and, with it, so did the storm she had conjured.

 

* * *

 

Prince Alexander lay helpless at the foot of the forest, his head bleeding profusely and his clothes in rags.

Suddenly, two cheerful if obscenely ugly hunchbacked dwarves emerged through the forest from a nearby glen, where they were gathering firewood.

"Oh!" squeaked Jonathan, catching sight of the fallen boy. "Look, Andrew! An injured youth! We must help him!"

Andrew nodded. "Look at what is left of his garments. He is royal, I am sure. Perhaps if we nurse him back to health, we will be rewarded by his kingdom."

His companion tutted. "We must help him because it is the right thing to do and we have reformed of our nefarious ways." He bent at his waist and peered more closely at the youth. "He is quite beautiful. Surely his people will send rescuers. In the meantime, we must to what we can to assist him."

Andrew pouted. "Of course we should help him. I was merely suggesting that, were we to be rewarded for saving him, we might no longer be beholden to that villain, Warren of Robotica."

Jonathan's eyes dimmed at the memory of their former master. "Warren is an evil man. We were lucky to escape with our lives before we again had to shave his back. Our first act of redemption shall be to protect this lad."

They edged closer to the prostrate prince.

"Sweet Cordelia!" Jonathan gasped, pushing back Alexander's hair. "He bears the mark of the White Witch! Whatever happened here must be the result of powerful magic, Andrew. This boy is special."

Each nodding affirmatively, the dwarves abandoned their kindling and, with all their strength, hoisted Prince Alexander onto their shoulders and began trudging to their small cottage deep in the woods.

 

* * *

 

The people of Cordeliana grew anxious and then frantic as the day wore on and no sign of their prince was forthcoming. Two hours after Prince Alexander was due to arrive, the populace, certain that their sovereign had met with foul play, stormed Chase Palace and demanded that the Lord Protector summon the Royal Guard to search for their missing regent.

Knowing he had no choice, William complied, but directed the Guard to search first a large tract of land which was located along a route most likely to be unused by Prince Alexander. The Captain of the Royal Guard, Riley de Finn, was suspicious of the request, and immediately sent a coded missive to the White Witch, sure that she would wish to be advised of the circumstances.

The Captain and his men rode out of the town proper and headed for the Whispering Woods in search of their royal heir.

Duke William sat in his castle, worried for both the prince and his future. Were Alexander to have met his end, the Duke would be removed from the residence and the Princess Faith would most likely ascend to the throne as the new queen of the realm. Princess Buffy was first in line to inherit the throne of Sunnydale, and Princess Faith, as Queen Tara's daughter and cousin to Darla, would assume rule over Cordeliana as soon as she reached majority, with her mother acting as Regent until that time.

What was to become of him if he was banished from the land? He had nowhere to go, having forfeited his lands when he had married Queen Darla, and he was under no illusions that he would be welcomed in Aurelius by King Liam.

"Mirror, mirror, before my eyes," he began, "will the truth out my lies?"

Anyanka appeared and smirked. " _Oh, poor William, the future is bleak, but I have not the answers you seek._ "

Not that she would tell him if she had.

"Miserable magical mirror," the Duke angrily pouted.

 

* * *

 

The dwarves Andrew and Jonathan slowly but surely arrived at their tiny cottage deep within the Whispering Woods, struggling to keep the young prince atop their shoulders. Grunting, they laid him down upon Andrew's bed.

"What do we do now?" Jonathan asked.

His companion gave a mild shrug. "I suppose we should send messages to the provinces to try and determine the young man's identity."

Andrew began to wring his hands. "I am unsure that course of action is wise. What was a man of royal lineage doing alone in the middle of the forest without even a page to accompany him? Where is his steed?"

Jonathan slowly nodded. "You are correct, dear friend. Further, I suggest the manner of that sudden storm is most suspicious."

"Magic!" Andrew croaked. "It could only be the work of either the White Witch or Amy of Madison." Both shuddered; either option was mortally terrifying. However, the mark upon the boy's forehead indicated that he was special to Willow.

Jonathan stepped closer to the prostrate youth and began examining him for clues.

"Look!" he gasped, pulling back from the prince's neck the clasp which affixed his cape.

Andrew clucked and inched forward, uncomfortable with his friend touching one of noble birth.

"It is the crest of Cordeliana!" Jonathan softly cried. "This is Prince Alexander!"

Pieces began falling into place for the two dwarves.

"Amy," Andrew whispered. "It must be! For while the White Witch has great power at her disposal, Amy of Madison is renowned for her control of the elements! If this is Prince Alexander, he must have been returning to his kingdom when the storm arose, most likely to assume his throne in the wake of the death of Queen Darla."

"But whence was he coming?" asked a confused Jonathan.

"Sunnydale," was the decisive answer. "Do you not remember? After King Consort Lindsey was assassinated, Queen Darla sent their son to her cousin, Queen Tara, to keep him safe."

Jonathan began pacing. "Where Amy is found, you can be sure King Liam is not far behind. The rumors must be true! King Liam Angelus is after the throne of Cordeliana and is seeking to rid the kingdom of its regnant prince!"

"What are we to do?" a shaky Andrew questioned.

"We certainly have not the power to cross neither Amy nor King Liam," Jonathan replied. "We must attempt to contact the White Witch."

 

* * *

 

Willow was gazing into her scrying pool, disturbed by its inky depths as she tried to focus on Alexander and discern how he was faring on his sojourn. While night was encroaching upon the land, it was not yet so dark that she could not make out the surroundings. Still, her second sight was being blocked by something. Her eyes narrowed. Or someone.

"White Witch!" Sir Wesley panted, racing into the room. "A missive for you from the Captain of the Cordelian Guard! Prince Alexander never arrived and is presumed missing!"

Her eyes bled onyx. "You will advise neither Queen Tara nor the Princesses of these developments."

"As you command, mistress." He bowed and exited the room backwards, shutting the massive oak doors behind him.

"I have been remiss, Amy. I should have dealt with you long ago. I believe it is time to remedy that error."

 

* * *

 

"I'm s-scared, Jonathan," Andrew whispered. "What if Amy of Madison comes for us? We stand no chance!"

"We will do what is right," his companion replied. "This boy is an innocent, and an entire kingdom and the welfare of its people rests on his wonderfully broad shoulders. It is simply a matter of concealment. Our small magics have shielded us from Warren; we can only hope they will hold against Amy until the White Witch arrives."

"How will we know if our message is received?"

"Oh, I am quite sure that Witch Willow is already aware that the Prince is missing, and she undoubtedly has made plans to deal with those who seek to bring him harm."

Andrew, still unsure, swallowed heavily and sent up a prayer to the wise Cordelia to watch over them all.

 

* * *

 

The former Queen Cordelia watched these events unfold from her perch in the Higher Realms, to where she had been elevated after her mortal demise. She was endlessly grateful to the Powers That Be, even though they were dickheads, who had allowed her to continue to guard her kingdom, ensuring the prosperity of her people and her descendants.

She found Alexander most intriguing. The last of her mortal line and a credit to her kingdom: he was a genuinely loving and humble soul who wished only the best for his people and his family, though he still burned with an inner fire which was ferocious to behold, one which promised swift justice to treachery performed by others. It was all about balance, of course, and young Alexander was an extraordinarily grounded and centered young man. She would exercise all of the powers granted to her as a Higher Being to ensure for him as much happiness as possible. Unfortunately, it was necessary for him to be lost before he could be found.

A small smirk appeared on her glorious face, and with a wave of her hand, she guided Alexander's savior toward the cottage of those helpful, if severely ugly, dwarves. She then rolled her neck and cracked her knuckles as she peered down on Amy, Liam Angelus, and Duke William.

"Buckle up, bitches. Your deficiencies are about to be addressed."

 

* * *

 

The Lady Joyce arrived in Cordeliana to much fanfare. As a direct descendant of the Great Cordelia and the only surviving relative of Queen Darla, save Queen Tara of Sunnydale, Lady Joyce was viewed by the people as the only acceptable royal to rule in the stead of Prince Alexander until Princess Faith reached majority. With their beloved prince missing, many hoped that Lady Joyce would either openly challenge Lord Protector William for the throne, or dispose of him once and for all. The tales of the woman's cocoa far preceded her.

As she approached the palace, the Lord Protector swooped down from a parapet to greet her, unsurprised but yet thoroughly humiliated when she carefully and deliberately extracted herself from his attempted embrace. His cheeks coloring slightly, he forced himself not to scowl.

"Lady, you do my kingdom an honor by gracing it with your presence."

" _Your_ kingdom?" she repeated, raising a brow.

"Only until the lovely Alexander is returned to us, of course."

She pursed her lips. "Indeed."

The prince was lovely, was he? Well, yes, he rather was. Young, virile, and exceedingly handsome, Lady Joyce took great pride in calling him a member of her family. That the Lord Protector was so unctuously singing the lad's praises nauseated her. She knew of and was horrified by his predilection for nubile youths. She would pound his bones into dust and scatter them over the tar pits before she allowed him to get his hands on the prince. The news of the death of Queen Darla had hit her hard, as well, and after her conversation with the White Witch, the Lady Joyce also believed the Lord Protector culpable for that atrocity.

"Tell me, William," she sneered, refusing to deign to address him by his self-appointed title, "what news have you of my dear Alexander?"

The Duke plastered on his countenance a look of grave concern. "Frightfully little, I'm afraid," he confided. "From what the Guard has been able to determine, our lovely prince disappeared somewhere on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. No trace of he nor his steed has been discovered. The entire kingdom is in mourning."

"That is a bit premature, wouldn't you agree?" she tartly demanded. "Prince Alexander is an exceptional young man well-trained in many disciplines, including carpentry, construction, dessert preparation, and the slaying of vicious creatures." She glared at him before roving her eyes disdainfully up and down his body. "Queen Tara and the White Witch saw to his development."

"Of course, my Lady," he replied in a strained voice.

"And," she airily continued, "as he was under the protection of the White Witch when he left Sunnydale, it is safe to presume it is merely a matter of time before she finds him and brings him home to us."

"I-Indeed? The fair boy is under her protection, is he?"

"Naturally. He bears her mark upon his forehead. Anyone or anything who is determined to have performed treachery against Alexander, or the kingdoms of Cordeliana and Sunnydale, shall meet a most painful end." She sighed happily.

"Then we have nothing to fear, do we?"

"I know I certainly do not." She took his arm, patting his hand, and began dragging him toward the castle. "Let us prepare for Alexander's triumphant return. I will, of course, wish to speak with Captain de Finn myself with regard to his progress in the search."

"Y-Yes, my Lady."

"Wonderful! Now, as we wait for his arrival, let us discuss other important matters." Her eyes stared blankly ahead, her voice dropping to a soothing contralto. "Come. Let me make you some cocoa."

 

* * *

 

"Message for the White Witch, your Majesty," Giles the Fool informed his queen.

"Oh, dear. I'm afraid that Willow has departed the kingdom to see to a matter of great import." She hemmed and hawed for a moment. "Please read aloud the missive."

Giles bowed. "Of course, Your Highness."

 

* * *

 

_Most Gracious White Witch,_

_We are but humble dwarves who reside in the Forbidden Forest under meager protections which keep us hidden from our former master, a villainous knave known as Warren of Robotica. We seek nothing more than to live out our wretched lives in seclusion with the beasts of this land, but a chance discovery this afternoon has compelled us to seek your counsel._

_During our constitution and amidst a most peculiar storm, we found an unconscious youth splayed out in our small glen. His beauty and fine clothing indicated that he might be royal, and our suspicions were confirmed when we spied at his neck the crest of Cordeliana. It is the lovely Prince Alexander!_

_White Witch, we have reason to believe that he ran afoul of a vicious spell perpetrated against him by Amy of Madison whom, as you know, has control over the elements. We are sure it has not escaped your attention that the witch Amy is beholden to King Liam Angelus of Aurelias, and most likely performed this horrid deed at his command. Wise Witch, we impart this delicate information to you with great hesitation, but are you aware that not only is King Liam a distant relative of William of Cloroxia, the widower of the most beneficent Queen Darla, but also has designs on your eldest daughter, the divine Princess Buffy?_

_We have sheltered the Prince in our cabin, but it is insufficient for a being of his grandeur. Please know that we will guard him with our very lives until you arrive. Please hurry, Your Eminence; we fear that the magic of Amy of Madison will afford us little salvation were she to discover the Prince is in our care._

_Most Respectfully,_

_Andrew and Jonathan,_   
_Dwarves_

_  
_

* * *

 

By the time the Fool had finished his recitation, the Princess Buffy was in tears and Princess Faith was angrily pacing about the throne room, mumbling under her breath. The shock of the news settled upon the souls of the staff and court, as every man, woman, and child threw up prayers to the Great Cordelia to watch over the Prince.

Queen Tara's eyes hooded. "Is there proof of this claim?" she demanded.

With shaking fingers, the Fool unpinned from the scroll the crest to which the letter referred and held it up for the Queen's examination.

"Very well," the stony sovereign said in a low voice. "I assume that my wife suspected treachery and has gone off to confront Amy herself." She nodded to herself. "Excellent. We shall see to the enemies of the Prince." She frowned and looked skyward. "I sense that he is no immediate danger and is most likely safest where he is."

She turned to her most trusted and loyal servant. "Sir Wesley, is this information with regard to King Liam Angelus accurate? Does he seek the hand of the Princess?

"He does, Your Majesty."

Princess Buffy shuddered.

"And is it your opinion that Prince Alexander's earlier suspicions were correct, that his mother's death was unnatural? That my cousin, the Queen Darla, was assassinated by Duke William?"

"I believe so, my Queen, as I believe that foul interloper, along with his kingly cousin, had Prince Lindsey eliminated. I suspect that he plans to rule Cordeliana as his own, either using the Prince as a puppet or disposing of him altogether. It stands to reason that over time, he will parcel out control of the kingdom to Liam Angelus, leaving it bankrupt and at his mercy."

The Princess Buffy ceased her sobs and rose to her feet. "Your Majesty, dear Mother, we cannot allow this. I will not see my beloved Alexander at the mercy of these fiends! Has he not lost enough?"

"Indeed, daughter," the stormy Queen replied. "Sir Wesley, what of these dwarves? Do you know of them?"

"No, Your Highness."

"And their former master?"

"My Queen," Giles interrupted, "there have been rumors that Warren of Robotica is an insane megalomaniacal misogynist who once attempted a brutal assault against the personage of the lovely Countess Katrina of Illyria. He is a vicious scoundrel."

"Katrina!" Queen Tara gasped. "Cousin to the Princess Winifred?"

"The very same, my liege."

"This is unacceptable." She squared her shoulders and hardened her eyes. "I shall allow my wife to punish Amy of Madison as she deems fit. I will leave the Lord Protector in the very capable hands of the Lady Joyce." She gave a feline smile. "With regard to this Warren creature," she turned toward the Princess Faith, "daughter, does your friend the crocodile still reside in the moat?"

The Princess bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty. He has taken a part of the southeastern bend."

"I assume his appetite is ravenous," she slyly remarked.

"Why yes, I do believe it is." The eyes of the Princess lighted with glee.

"Excellent. Sir Wesley, please have the insect captured and brought to Sunnydale for our amusement. Er, for punishment, rather."

The nobleman's lips twitched and he bowed. "Of course, Your Highness." He hurried off.

"Lovely. I shall attend to King Liam myself." She held up a hand to quell her daughters' protests. "Daughters, it is simply how it is done amongst us royals. We mete out our own justice."

With that, her eyes burned white as she raised her arms and disappeared in a burst of flame.

The Princesses gaped at the spot on which their mother had stood only seconds before.

"Oh, come now," Giles scolded. "Did you honestly believe the White Witch would marry one beneath her power? Queen Tara is a fearsome sorceress."

"Well," the Princess Faith drawled, "it is true what they say: one learns something new every day." She turned toward her sister. "Come, Buffy, let us advise Clem the Crocodile that dinner is about to be served."

The sisters linked arms and jauntily exited the throne room.

Giles sighed. "I fear that should those two ever come to rule this kingdom, the world is doomed."


	3. Part the Third

Amy of Madison danced around her turret, clapping her hands with devilish glee.

She had obeyed King Liam's command, but had brought no serious harm to Prince Alexander. Perhaps one day she would be free of the yoke which Liam Angelus had placed around her neck, both literally and figuratively, and could rid herself of his albatross. A song in her heart and wetness between her legs, she glided back over to her scrying pool to determine the aftershocks of the prince's unfortunate…accident.

She frowned and peered more closely, puzzled that she could see nothing but mist, as thick as that which covered the Bogs of the Oxnard Wastelands. Odd. What was happening here? She tilted her head. Magic, rudimentary to be sure, but magic nevertheless. However, she was unable to discern the signature, for it was neither hers nor that of the White Witch.

Eyes widening, she stood to her full height. Impossible! There were no other magical practitioners in the environs, save they.

"It is most comical how misinformed you are of so great a many things, Amy of Madison."

The dark witch stiffened at the silky purr hissed at her from the doorway. Rather that turning around and openly displaying her fear, Amy held her ground and struggled for a tone of boredom. "White Witch. I have been expecting you."

Willow threw back her head and cackled, each staccato laugh like a knife in the small of Amy's back. "Oh, I am quite sure, novice, but not so quickly, correct? And not without triggering your wards, which, by the way, are rather pathetic. Not that I expected any less from you."

The taunt produced the desired effect, and a sliver of bravado crept into Amy's blood. Turning on her heel, she faced her greatest enemy, prepared to unleash the elements and take the kingdom of Aurelius with her, but was shocked into stillness and silence as she saw the tresses of the White Witch, normally the blazing crimson of dragon's fire, swirling about her head in the shades of darkest night. The eyes, once glittering emeralds, were now flat and opaque, recalling the dull gleam of obsidian.

"How dare you," Willow seethed, "touch what is mine?"

"That boy is not yours!"

"He is of the blood of my bonded, you stupid cow! I have raised that child since he was a mere babe. He could be no more mine than had I birthed him myself."

"Yet he is alive, is he not?" the dark witch coolly observed.

"Irrelevant. You have learned nothing in the past score years, insect. I thought our last altercation would you give pause, but you stupidly insist on your presumptive arrogance. Fool."

"I had no choice!" Amy gathered her hair in her hand and held it aloft, revealing the collar Liam Angelus had placed upon her neck, indenturing her services.

"Is that supposed to quell my rage?" Willow mocked, offended. "I should spare you because of this? Idiot child. You know as well as I that such a device could only be affixed to you with your consent. You whored yourself and your magic for his promise of sanctuary and revenge." She stepped forward. "Are you so naïve that you believe practice makes perfect? Magic isn't about trial-and-error, little girl, it is about power. I have it, you do not. Woe unto you that you did not recognize this long ago."

"So what are you going to do?" Amy demanded, with all the petulance of a maid. "Kill me?"

Willow's smile was horrifying, her eyes arctic. "Why no. I have something much more suiting in mind." The entire castle shuddered as pure white light began breaking through the mortar. "Ah," she noted with satisfaction. "It seems my wife has arrived."

Amy's eyes bugged. "W-What?"

"Fret not," the White Witch cooed. "Her Serene Highness will leave you to my capable hands. Her prey this night is much more a menace." She shook her head. "Silly Liam. Pride is the one sin you can never conquer."

"But…but how?"

"You and I are witches, Amy of Madison, ordinary mortals imbued with power to be used for Good or Evil. We have both made our choices. Queen Tara is something altogether different: she is a sorceress."

The mouth of the other witch fell open and, before she could register the movement, Willow was on her.

"First, let us take care of this." She snapped the collar from Amy's neck as if it were nothing more than a twig.

Stunned yet rallying, Amy tried to summon all of her power to her.

"Wretch," Willow smiled, "you know nothing." With that, she began absorbing all of Amy's magic. "Now it is time for you to learn what it means to be truly powerless."

Amy of Madison screamed.

 

* * *

 

"It should not be long now," a smug Liam Angelus noted.

"Not long at all," a soft voice agreed.

Startled, he turned to face the source of the voice. "Queen Tara," he purred. "You pay me great honor by coming to visit me in my loneliness. You look as stunning as ever."

"That for which I will be repaying you has nothing to do with honor, rodent."

A stab of fear began needling his chest, but he would pay it no mind, refusing to cower before this lowly woman. "Come now. Must we reduce ourselves to a pitiful exchange of childish name-calling?"

"Yes."

"Very well. Bitch."

"Thief."

"Cow."

"Murderer."

He flinched. No, there was no way she could know. There was no proof of which to speak, he had ensured that. Unless that fool William had flapped his lips. Were there spies in the kingdoms?

Queen Tara laughed. "Your fellow vermin have kept their counsel, demon." She cocked her head. "It is a shame, for their confessions might have spared them. Now, they shall be consigned along with you to the depths of Hell. Eventually. I do hope you have chosen wisely in your company, Liam, for you shall never be parted from them."

No! Anything but that! He could not bear to be saddled with that miserable wretch William for all eternity! Although the bastard did have quite a tight and compact body. Liam looked around and grinned.

"I do not see your witch about, Your Majesty," he simpered.

"That is because she is currently dealing with your own," Queen Tara tartly replied. "Tell me, dear Liam," she cooed, "on whom would you place your bet?" She laughed again.

Fie! Not only was he to lose his kingdom, but his witch!

"Then do your worst, bitch," he viciously spat. "You have no power over me. Run and tell the other kingdoms of how naughty Liam conspired against that slut, Darla, and her ponce, Lindsey. Do you honestly think they will believe you? There is no proof."

"None is required." Her eyes burned white. "I can see into your heart, Liam, as black and diseased as it is." She gave a sad sigh. "Were you not such a bastard, I might take pity upon you, but I am not that noble, not where my children and my family are concerned. Perhaps the Powers That Be will be more solicitous of your soul, but I shall grant you no mercy. You killed my cousin and her husband; you ordered the death of their only son; you schemed for the hand of my beloved daughter."

At the display of her power, after recognizing it for what is was, Liam Angelus knew there was only one card left to play.

"Alexander," he laughed. "I should have let dear William fuck that boy into oblivion as he wanted, for he is no more royal than his bastard father. As for the Princess Buffy," he grinned, "she is a delightful creature who will one day make an exceptional queen." He wagged his eyebrows. "You know as well as I that she will require a firm hand to smack that ripe bottom. And then there is her tasty sister! If there was ever a natural born whore, it is she. Such a dirty little girl, Queen Tara. I'm surprised one as noble as thee lays claim to her. Tell me, does she rut in the mud like the pig she is, or does she simply take it up the arse like the foul scarlet women of Cordeliana and Sunnydale?"

"Your vile words are as pathetic as their purveyor," Queen Tara sneered. "They will not spare you from a slow death."

With a wave of her hand, thousands of tiny cuts broke out across Liam's body as rivulets of thick red blood swum to the surface of his skin.

"Is that the best you have?" he grunted, smirking, even as the stinging pain forced him to his knees.

"Oh, that is not even close to my best." She stepped closer. "Would you really like to see me, Liam, at my best?"

She planted her feet shoulder-width apart and began drawing power from the Earth itself. The very castle began groaning and shuddering in response, the mortar between the stones dissolving, the foundation cracking, as light poured through the walls and floors. Then, there was stillness.

"There is time. I am in no hurry, and I do believe that we have more important matters to which to attend." She snapped her fingers, and a knot formed in his small intestine. "A fascinating organ. Its expanse is quite spectacular when freed from the confines of the abdominal cavity. Perhaps that is something also to consider."

She snapped her fingers again. And again. King Liam Angelus of the Realm of Aurelius screamed in agony, music to her ears.

"There is magic to be found in every sound. One simply must attune their ear to the right notes." A clap of her hands rendered the man a eunuch. "I am quite sure you shall find yourself exceedingly popular in the pits of Hell."

Snap. Snap. Snap.

 

* * *

 

"Why, William! You have not touched your cocoa," the Lady Joyce scolded. "I took great pains in preparing it especially for you."

Oh, he was quite sure that she had. "I thank you for your kindness, dear Lady, but I am afraid that my fear for dear Alexander has stolen my appetite."

"How humane of you," she drawled. "Tell me, Duke, which is more frightening: that the Prince might never be found; or that he will be, alive and unmolested? Make no mistake, he will be recovered and restored to this throne, but your machinated usurpation is indeed quite finished."

He stared at her, his mouth falling open, before he began rapidly blinking. "I am sure I have absolutely no idea of that to which you are referring, Lady Joyce, and I will thank you not to sully my reputation nor that of my late wife by insinuating that I have acted in anything but the best interests of my stepson."

"Do pardon me, as I certainly did not mean to imply or insinuate; I thought myself rather straightforward. Your unrighteous indignation bores me, titmouse, so let us place all of our proverbial cards on the table. I know what you have done, as does the White Witch. I suspect that by now the good Queen Tara has also been made aware of your treachery. It is only a matter of time before they deal with Liam Angelus and his witch."

She raised an eyebrow and calmly regarded him. "How long do you think the King will last before he throws you to the wolves? Cousin or not, he has no love for anyone other than himself, his leather britches, and his hair. His magician is no match for the White Witch. And after you are finally exposed, do you truly believe the people of this kingdom will allow you to escape after learning the fate you forced upon their Queen? Darla was beloved, as is her child. The King of Attorneyata will seek justice for the murder of his only son, Lindsey. After Alexander inherits both kingdoms, secures a wife or husband, and forges a formal alliance with Sunnydale, there will be nowhere in this world for you to hide."

"So I should drink your infernal cocoa and succumb to death right now, is that right?" he demanded.

She threw back her head and laughed. "Oh, come now, William, I am not a murderess! My cocoa will do little but render you permanently impotent, which is really more for my own amusement than a punishment for you." She leaned forward and gave him a menacing glare. "You will never touch the beautiful Alexander. I will not allow you to besmirch his sterling reputation by seducing him with your sculpted cheekbones and firm buttocks. He is destined for much greater things than being another notch on your hitch post."

He stood and hissed. "Stupid bitch. You may be able to keep the pretty from me, but you have no power to keep me here. You should have killed me when you had the chance."

"And rob her of all her fun?"

William screwed up his face. "Her? Who her?"

The Lady Joyce pointed a long, elegant finger at his magical mirror. "Why, the Lady of the Mirror, of course," she purred. "Don't you know who she is?"

"What do I care what fool name she calls herself?" he barked. "That mirror is little more than a useless prognosticator, gifted to me by King Liam Angelus."

"For services rendered, I am sure," the Lady replied, rolling her eyes. She turned thoughtful. "It really is a shame that you hold not the Lady of the Mirror in higher regard. If you had, perhaps she might have been more forthright with her visions."

Duke William frowned.

"Do you not recognize her?" Joyce pressed. "Do you not recognize your own cousin?"

"Cousin!" he gasped.

In the space of a single moment, the Lady Joyce poured out the contents of her cup of cocoa and flung the crockery at the mirror, its surface shattering and splintering into pieces, exploding inward. The room was flooded with yellow light and the frame of the mirror lengthened and narrowed, becoming a door. A beautiful young woman cautiously stepped through, seemingly disoriented and unsure of her location. Upon seeing those in residence, she heaved a sigh of relief, squared her shoulders, hitched up her skirt in hand, and sashayed toward the occupants.

The Duke stared, gaping at the vision of loveliness before him, understanding that the Lady Joyce expected him to know this woman, though he recognized not her countenance. He was further stunned to see the Lady Joyce fall into a deep curtsy and bow her head.

"My Queen."

"What!" he sputtered. "Queen!"

"Yes, dear cousin," the woman purred, "it is I, Anyanka, sister to Liam Angelus and the rightful ruler of the Realm of Aurelius." Her grin was predatory as his shock gave way to realization and his eyes flitted about in search of escape. She glided toward the door, blocking his exit. "You have been very naughty, William, running about and inciting violence against your betters. Your braggart ways have been almost unbearable to endure, but do make passing judgment against you so much easier."

"J-Judgment?"

"Indeed," Anyanka sniffed. "You see, my brother had his foul wretch of a witch imprison me in that mirror when I was but a mere babe so that I could not claim the throne, but her spell had one major consequence which she could not anticipate: I was able to travel to and from every mirror in the land, and thus keep myself apprised of all developments. Queen Tara of Sunnydale has disposed of my brother, and the White Witch has absorbed all of the magic from Amy of Madison. Your closest compatriots are either dead or powerless."

Her sneer was triumphant. "The Prince Alexander is safe, and his envoys have sent word of his location to Sunnydale. He is unharmed and will remain as such, and you will never have the opportunity to defile his virtue."

Duke William moaned, knowing that his life would soon be cut short. That realization, however, paled in comparison to the realization that he would never lay hands on the juicy, virginal skin of his delicious stepson. "Oh! Woe unto me and my mighty flesh lance!"

The Lady Joyce clenched her fists at her sides, but Queen Anyanka merely rolled her eyes.

"What will become of me?" he whispered.

The Queen cocked her hip and raised her eyes heavenward.

"Well," she slowly began, "I have had nothing but time to consider your fate. I had planned originally to collar you and compel you to service the combined forces of every royal guard of the land," her eyes narrowed as his lighted with hope, "but I discerned you might like that too well.

"Then I debated about simply having you killed, of which I am sure the young prince would be in favor, but that would be too easy for you. Thus, I will ask the White Witch to inflict upon you the same curse you unleashed upon my best friend, the Queen Darla. You will develop an allergy to the sun, whereby you will find it impossible to be exposed to its rays. You will be confined to the same dark, dank dungeon in which you placed Queen Darla, but your end will not be as swift. You will be afforded enough food and water to survive, so that you will linger until death finally claims you. You will receive no visitors, save myself, the prince, and the Lady Joyce, so that we might mock and gloat, and to ensure that you will not prostitute yourself to any hapless soldier who might be swayed by your dubious charms."

Lady Joyce cackled. "You will grow pale and weak. You will be denied your large store of hair maintenance products, including the coloring which you claim not to use. You will become skeletal, losing all of the muscle mass on which you pride yourself. You will be provided no lubricant to ease your self-pleasuring. You will never again know the touch of another. You will sleep on a pallet of hay, be outfitted only in rags made of artificial fibers in obscene colors, and the only reading materials provided to you will be literature pertaining to the study of equine hygiene."

"No!" he gasped. "Please! Do not resign me to such a horrid fate! Kill me outright, or violate repeatedly my exquisite body with implements of your choosing! Imprison me in that mirror! Anything but that which you have described!"

"The sentence stands," Queen Anyanka dispassionately proclaimed. "Captain de Finn!"

At once, the tall, lithe Captain of the Guard stormed into the room, followed by a cadre of his most trusted men.

"Hold this vermin until proper preparations have been made. Feel free to taunt and sneer, but keep physical contact to a minimum. It takes little to arouse this nymphomaniac."

Captain de Finn bowed. "As you wish, Your Majesty, and welcome back to our world. You have been missed."

She coyly smiled and batted her eyes, pleased by his resulting blush. While not a royal, he was nonetheless noble, and certainly suitable enough to pass several lazy months while in search of a husband. Of course, should the man prove exceptional in those deeds which mattered, she might not bother searching out a royal mate.

He blinked rapidly to focus his eyes and cleared his throat. "And our Prince, Your Highness?" he anxiously required.

She laid a soothing hand on his forearm, gently kneading its well-developed muscles. "Fear not, good captain," she cooed. "Young Alexander will be returned to Cordeliana and will assume its throne. Your friend will soon be amongst you once more."

Overcome with love and loyalty for his prince, Captain de Finn exhaled with relief and nodded, turning to his men, who were cheering the return of their favorite boy.

"Place this criminal in chains," he commanded, indicating Duke William, "about his neck, hands, and feet. The charges include the assassination of our beloved and well-hung King Consort Lindsey; the cursing and regicide of our most beautiful and beneficent Queen Darla; and the magical assault of our sexy young prince, Alexander. Other charges include conspiracy, lechery, thievery, and fashion violations against the strict dress code the Great Cordelia herself set for our people. We reserve the right to add charges to this list as they are discovered, or simply for our amusement."

He nodded again, and they hauled away the protesting Duke William, who continued to beg for just one of the burly soldiers to press themselves tightly against his backside.

Contented, the Lady Joyce and Queen Anyanka took seats at the massive table in the center of the room.

"Well," the Queen sighed, "thank the Great Cordelia that nonsense has been decided."

Lady Joyce nodded. "Perhaps we should plan a celebration for our two kingdoms, now that we, with the assistance of Queen Tara and the White Witch, have liberated them from their oppressors."

"Oh, how exciting!" the Queen trilled, merrily clapping her hands.

The elder woman nodded. "And the coronations! We must have a dual coronation ceremony for both Your Majesty and Prince Alexander. At long last, we will be able to begin healing the rifts between our two lands!"

Queen Anyanka clapped again, before abruptly ceasing. "We will be splitting the tab, yes?"

 

* * *

 

The righteous and noble King Graham, regent of the small island principality of Marina Corpus, sat atop his steed as he traversed the sun-dappled wilderness of the Forbidden Forest.

He had crossed the Sea of Studs and entered the mainland through the kingdom of Sunnydale, just in time to witness the execution of a scurrilous knave named Warren. Death by crocodile was unusual, but not unfamiliar. Judging by the celebrated temperateness of the good Queen Tara and the screams of delight echoing from the forum, the criminal and his actions must have been particularly heinous.

Dismissing the scene from his mind, King Graham return to fretting about his most uncertain future. He had inherited his throne after a bloodthirsty coup in which he forcibly ejected his wicked stepmother, Lady Margaret Walsh, who had been using the populace in a series of unlawful and revolting scientific experiments, trying to disprove natural laws which had long since known to be true.

His kingdom's population had been reduced by two-thirds; the youngest and the elderly were the first to go, before Lady Margaret and her monstrous troll, Adam, began eradicating the adults. His treasury was all but empty and most of the island lay in ruins. Still, were it not for the most gracious Queen Darla and the money, munitions, and medicine she had provided, far more lives would have been lost. Thus, he was on his way to Cordeliana to pay praise unto her.

He was not sure why he had entered the Forbidden Forest, knowing it was far safer for a king without his retinue to travel the main roads, but an unknown force had compelled him to take this shortcut. He was not particularly worried, as he was little recognized outside of his kingdom, not to mention he was in exquisite physical shape and could well look after himself. He involuntarily flexed his biceps.

"H-Halt!" demanded a wavering voice. "Come no f-further!"

King Graham peered down curiously and noticed a reedy dwarf ineffectually waving about what appeared to be a makeshift sword, constructed from a small stick, sharpened on one end to a point. Ridiculous. What evil could such an instrument dispel? He held up a hand.

"Peace, dwarf. I mean you no harm."

"This forest is Forbidden!"

King Graham raised an eyebrow. "As its name implies. Yet it does not deter your presence. You must be an exceedingly brave, if ugly, dwarf."

A pleased blush spread across the small creature's cheeks.

"Fear not, young dwarf," the King continued, "I am King Graham of Marina Corpus. I am only on this road to hasten to Cordeliana and pay my respects to her lovely Queen, who has performed for me a most kindly service."

"Oh," the dwarf sighed, tears springing to his eyes. "I am most sorry, Your Dreamy Highness. You must not have heard the dreadful news."

"News? What news? Dwarf! Who are you, and what is that of which you speak?" he demanded.

"Please excuse my impertinence, Most Muscular One," it bowed. "I am Andrew. I live in these woods with my heterosexual life partner, Jonathan."

The King raised both brows at this. He might not have the guile of those who lived on the mainland, but he expected that this dwarf was about as heterosexual as a prancing unicorn with a rainbow mane.

"It is good to meet your acquaintance, noble Andrew, but please tell me what news of Queen Darla?"

"It is most tragic, Sir," Andrew whispered. "The Queen's husband, that scoundrel William of Cloroxia, conspired with King Liam Angelus and his witch, Amy of Madison, to murder the good Darla."

"No! No, I refuse to believe this! It is outrageous!"

"It is, unfortunately, nevertheless true."

"But…but what of her kingdom? What of her son, the most beautiful Alexander?" King Graham's eyes became hazy. "I have not seen him for many years. My father once brought me to Cordeliana when I was but a mere lad. This was before our world was deprived of the King Consort, Lindsey, who was, at the time, the most handsome man in the land." He sighed. "Prince Alexander was such a lovely boy, so full of life and vitality, running about the castle and charming everyone with his huge brown eyes and lopsided grin. I remember he was most fond of a curious confection known as a Twinkie."

"Oh!" Andrew squeaked. "Prince Alexander is at my cottage! Jonathan and I discovered him perchance only this afternoon, lying unconscious in the Forest after a magical storm." His eyes flitted about nervously. "We believe it was the work of Amy of Madison, whose king, Liam Angelus, has sought for years the Cordelian throne."

"Is the prince quite well?" King Graham anxiously asked.

"I believe so, yes. He has not yet woken, but is no immediate danger, for his constitution and his thighs are very strong. He bears the mark of the White Witch! Certainly she will allow no serious harm to befall him."

"But whatever was he doing in this Forest?"

"We believe he was sojourning to his kingdom, after being recalled by his stepfather. No doubt the people of Cordeliana wished him to claim the throne, rather than see it fall to that villainous knave, Duke William. He had been living with his mother's cousin, the good Queen Tara of Sunnydale."

King Graham frowned. "I passed Sunnydale just hours before. They were celebrating the execution of one whom I can only believe was most evil. His name was Warren." He ignored the dwarf's excited squeak. "Noble Andrew, you must take me at once to Prince Alexander. If I cannot remunerate his sainted mother for her kindness, the least I can do is ensure her son's safe return to his kingdom."

Andrew narrowed his eyes and studied the pinched face of this foreign king, discerning no malice from the handsome royal. The man was disheartened and worried, and the dwarf doubted King Graham had an evil bone in his strong, delectable body. After a moment, he nodded.

"Very well, good King. Our cottage is just over that next ridge. Follow me."

"We will arrive much faster were you to join me on horseback," the king decidedly declared. With that, he scooped the dwarf up in one of his beefy arms and took off in the indicated direction.

 

* * *

 

"Andrew! You have brought home a stranger," Jonathan scolded. "What if he is a mercenary for the villainous Liam Angelus or the evil William of Cloroxia? Have you no sense? And where is the firewood? How are we to see to our charge without light? What if he catches a chill?"

"Hush, Jonathan," Andrew answered. "This is the strong and brave Graham, King of the isle of Marina Corpus."

The other dwarf's eye immediately found the royal signet ring on the hand of the beautiful man, and he gave a low bow. "A thousand pardons, Your Highness. I had no idea and meant no disrespect. You grace us with your presence."

King Graham waved him off. "No apologies, please, noble Jonathan, but please tell me of my young friend, Prince Alexander. I only just learned of the tragic news regarding his mother. I must see that he is returned to his people. I owe Queen Darla so much."

Instantly judging the man's sincerity, Jonathan nodded. "Of course, Your Majesty. He is just through here."

The King scrambled after the fleet-footed dwarf, and crossed the small living space, entering the single tiny bedroom, which contained only one bed. Heterosexual life partners indeed. Then, he spied atop the small mattress a youth of incomparable beauty.

"Oh," he breathed, his eyes widening. "He is almost exactly as I remember."

The dwarves watched as the King slowly approached the bed as if in a daze. They eyed each other when the large man bent down on one knee and slowly pushed the prince's hair out of his eyes.

"Oh, Alexander," King Graham whispered, gently stroking the boy's cheek, "I am so sorry for your undeserved troubles. I wish I could take them all from you. I promise you, dear boy, that I will avenge your parents if it is my last act on this earth. I pledge my life to you, good prince. I believe it was the work of the Great Cordelia herself which brought me here to you, and I will not rest until you, her last descendant, child of my benefactor, are restored to your throne."

He took the prince's hand in his own and gently kissed the top of it.

"You stole my heart all of those years ago, sweet prince, when we were both mere babes. I knew then that you would become a man of great beauty and compassion, one who would rule wisely and bring unto his kingdom even more glory." He blinked furiously. "We have both lost so much, but you must know that your parents would be so proud of you, dear Alexander, and I will punish all of those who dared to bring such sorrows into your life."

He turned to the dwarves, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Is there nothing we can do to rouse him? His people have endured so many losses. I do not wish them to see him in this condition."

Andrew shrugged helplessly. "It is a magical coma, my King. We are but simple dwarves. Our minor magic is no match for the evil of Amy of Madison. We should wait for the White Witch."

The King gave a dejected sigh.

"However," Jonathan slowly said, "it is said that even the evil of oldest magic dispels in the face of true love's kiss."

King Graham's eyes widened as his mouth fell open. "But I am not…he is not… _we_ are not…"

"How do you know?" Andrew gently asked. "Prince Alexander is of marriageable age, yet wears no ring of betrothal. He is the most sought-after royal in the land and has most likely been courted by the noblest of families. Why, I am sure the White Witch and Queen Tara would have been delighted had a romance blossomed between he and one of their young daughters, the beautiful princesses Buffy and Faith. Perhaps he was waiting for a prince of his own."

The King's eyes filled with hope.

"This great man is a king, not a prince," Jonathan corrected.

"They met when both were princes," Andrew countered.

"You are disrespectful."

"And you are unromantic!"

As the dwarves continued to quarrel, King Graham cautiously leaned over and pressed his lips to those of Prince Alexander, noting their exquisite curvature, their lush softness, the way they yielded and seemed to mold to his own. He inhaled the scent of the boy's hair, reminiscent of vanilla and sunshine, calling to mind a warm spring day.

King Graham closed his eyes and, with every fiber of his being, prayed to the Great Cordelia that this boy, this young king, might be his, that they might have found each other in the midst of great personal tragedies and might find, together, a life of joy and happiness. He beseeched her to bless this union if she thought it prudent, and, if not, he begged her to watch over this young man and ensure his life was a happy one. He poured all of his soul into the kiss, and then added a bit of tongue for good measure.

When he finally pulled away, he opened his eyes and, turning his head, swore he saw before him a young woman so beautiful, her breasts so proud and true, his heart jumped into his throat.

The dwarves immediately prostrated themselves, and that was when the king knew this vision of perfection was real.

"It is she! It is she!" Jonathan squeaked. "It is the Great Cordelia herself!"

She turned and smiled down on them. "So it is," she replied. She waved a hand and their hunchbacks disappeared. "You have been most helpful, dwarves. You have protected and cared for my descendant at no small risk to yourselves. Arise and know that you henceforth walk through this life blessed."

Trembling, the dwarves stood and bowed before her, tears leaking from their eyes.

"As King Graham told you, Jonathan and Andrew, Warren of Robotica is no more. The most gracious Queen Tara was much aggrieved upon learning of his dastardly misdeeds. What little remains of him is now in the belly of a crocodile. Fear him no longer."

The dwarves joined hands and merrily skipped about the room.

The Great Cordelia floated over toward King Graham and laid a hand atop his head.

"Young king, this boy before you is the last of my line, and he does me and mine great honor. Kind of heart, gentle of spirit, he is the best of both his parents and of me. He will be a great ruler, a kind man, and loving father. He needs at his side one who will love him unconditionally, but who will not put up with any of his bullshit."

She smiled. "I believe you are that person. Both of your lives have been marred with injustice and adversity, but you have now found each other and will embark on a life filled with joy and laughter and Hallmark moments, and you will do so together. You have my blessing, dear King."

She leaned over and kissed his forehead, before placing her mouth next to his ear. "But if you ever hurt him, pray that the Lady Joyce gets to you with her cocoa before I come for you."

He jerked back, his eyes the size of saucers, and nodded frantically. After a moment he recovered and bowed his head.

"Thank you, Great One," he whispered, his tears renewing. "I swear on your name that I will live out my days making him the happiest man in all the land."

She smiled again and clapped her hands. "Okay! Well, my work here is done. In the immortal words of Jerry, Count of Springer, take care of yourselves and each other. Catch you all on the flip." She turned on her heel and disappeared.

A moment passed, and the eyes of Prince Alexander began to flutter. Finally, they snapped open and he rolled on his side and coughed.

"What has happened?" he weakly asked. "Where am I?" He looked up into the eyes of the handsome man before him. "Gray? Prince Graham? Is that really you?"

"I am King now," the man smiled, before biting his lip and blushing, averting his eyes.

Memory washed over the young prince. "As am I," he whispered. His eyes filled. "I do not wish to be."

"I was so sorry to learn of your mother's passing, sweet prince," King Graham said, his voice low. "She was a remarkable lady."

"Thank you. But where am I? What am I doing here? What are you doing here?"

"We are in the cottage of the noble dwarves, Andrew and Jonathan. They rescued you after a most foul magical attack perpetrated against your person by the evil cow, Amy of Madison."

"My horse!"

At once, the wooden shutters on the single window burst open and Swift Wind stuck through his head and neighed happily upon seeing his master.

"Oh," Alexander blinked. "All right, then."

King Graham again took the prince's hand in his own, kissing it. "The Great Cordelia was just here."

"What!" He scrambled into a sitting position, his eyes darting around the room. "But where is she? I have waited my whole life for such a moment!"

"I prayed to her. I prayed for you."

"Well. Thank you, good King. It is most likely because of you that I have awoken from whatever…"

King Graham held open the hand of the prince and used it to caress his face. "I prayed for you."

"I…oh. Oh!" He swallowed. "For me?"

"For you."

"This is so lovely," Andrew trilled.

"Stop being rude!" Jonathan protested.

"Stop being a prude!"

The dwarves once again began to quarrel, as King Graham leaned over and again pressed his lips to those of Prince Alexander.

 

* * *

 

A double coronation ceremony was held the next day, in which Alexander and Anyanka received the crowns of their respective kingdoms, and such began a long and fruitful alliance between Cordeliana and the Realm of Aurelius. Soon, the kingdom of Sunnydale was incorporated into the union, and the three principalities became a trifecta of such power and goodness, no evil would ever again dare to besmirch the land.

The wedding of King Alexander and King Graham was a grandiose celebration, and everyone who was anyone was in attendance. It had been decided that the kingdom of Marina Corpus would be dissolved and all of the displaced citizens who had lost so much during the civil war found new lives and loves in the kingdom of Cordeliana, which welcomed them with open arms.

The island of Marina Corpus became a wildlife sanctuary for unicorns.

Alexander's paternal grandparents, King Gavin and Queen Lilah, insisted he also assume the throne of Attorneyata, which had been held for him since the passing of his father, Lindsey. Alexander was hesitant, but eventually capitulated. As Attorneyata lied directly west, it became part of the Cordelian empire, but maintained its independence and would do so in perpetuity.

As the two Kings were joined in marital bliss, Queen Tara of Sunnydale, the White Witch, and their two daughters, the princesses Buffy and Faith, looked on in happiness and relief that their dear cousin and good friend had found such a worthy partner. The White Witch was already working on a spell which would provide the couple with children.

Princess Buffy met at the wedding a beautiful young man named Parker; after he broke her heart, Clem the Crocodile was awarded another feast. The princess would later ascend to her mother's throne and find eternal bliss with Jesse of the Clan McNally.

At the celebration, Princess Faith met her match, or matches, in Samuel and Dean, the Brothers Winchester, a fraternal pair of transients who traveled from kingdom to kingdom, dispelling evil with their hotness. Eventually, they settled down in Cordeliana, becoming commanders of the combined armies of Cordeliana, Sunnydale, Attorneyata, and the Realm of Aurelius. Neither princess displayed the magical prowess of their mothers, but they were quite happy to live their days without the burden of supernatural powers.

Queen Anyanka watched the young kings with joy, with Captain Riley de Finn at her side; neither had ever looked so satisfied, and they were married at the end of the month.

Also present were Earl Charles de Gunn and Princess Winifred of Illyria, who would later find love with Sir Wesley and Giles the Fool, respectively.

Dwarves Andrew and Jonathan served as ringbearers, and were later knighted by their Kings and appointed a suite of rooms in the Cordelian Palace.

The Lady Joyce was delighted to be asked to serve as the officiator of the ceremony, and not a speck of cocoa was in sight. She was later named the Cordelian Ambassador and it soon became a contest amongst the other royals as to whom would be the next to welcome her to their kingdom.

One and one-half years later, Cordeliana had more reason to celebrate, as Prince Connor was delivered unto his fathers. Two years after that, he was joined by his sister, the Princess Dawn, who had the shiniest hair anyone could ever recall seeing.

The Great Cordelia herself visited the children one night while they slept in their cradles and blessed them. She then snuck into the royal bedchamber and watched Kings Alexander and Graham go about their royal business. Higher Beings were notoriously voyeuristic.

And they all lived happily ever after, until the evil Lord Voldemort came to their land in search of a boy with eyes as green as a pickled toad. That is a story for another time, however.


End file.
